


Showdowns

by Merfilly



Category: DCU (Comics), Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Dialect, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 01:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1327015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where being a mutant is illegal, Agent Roy Harper has one more chance to prove he's capable of not screwing up, or screwing his target. </p><p>Only, maybe all is not as it seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Showdowns

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written on Livejournal, with a couple of timestamp-meme scenes added in.

Agent Roy Harper took his orders with a mix of stinging shame and hope that he might overcome his reputation. Another task of getting into the mindset of the criminal, to go catch a thief this time, rather than an assassin was what they had offered him. He knew, in no uncertain terms, that his days with this agency were numbered if he did not successfully complete this task...as he had failed with Jade Nguyen.

He left the offices to go over the intel so far, his gold-green eyes curious, despite himself, and trying to read between the lines. Thieves were usually not his agency's specialty, but apparently...ahh, there it was. This man, the only suspect, had ties back to the organized crime guilds of New Orleans, and they thought he might also have ties to the elusive mutant organization that was showing more and more resistance to all the policies in place to cope with them. Either one made the thief worth the effort; both were irresistible.

* * *

Roy scuffed a hand over his face, feeling the stubble of not shaving for two full days, then slid it on up into his lengthening hair. One good thing about being an undercover sort; he got to look like a human being, not one of the robots in the office.

He'd been busy trying to make the right connections, so he could get more personal information than the intel had offered. If he was going to take the thief down, he needed to know the full range of alliances and enemies of the man.

So far, he'd found a lot of older women that called the thief a scamp, a rogue, and a rake, a few men looking to beat the man's face in, and several of both genders absolutely being stupid over him for purely physical reasons. Roy was really sure the guy was going to either be so stuck on himself that Roy could break him through arrogance, or that the thief was actually mostly talk and very little action, outside of his daring robberies.

Either way, there was no way in hell Roy was letting himself get close. It was all about keeping himself aloof, a pro at his job. He would infiltrate the nightlife, find the underbelly, and target his prey. One quick shot at the right moment, and the thief would be a sleeping beauty to deliver to his superiors.

Then he caught his first real glimpse of the thief, keeping a low profile in a dive on the outskirts of the DC suburban hell. Brown hair that swept up and over in a barely tamed style, long coat over what Roy thought might be relatively good armor, and the lean, lanky build Roy seemed to love seeing on a man.

And the man looked the right way, flashing the most unusually dark eyes with a hint of red in them. It reminded Roy eerily of one of the aliens he had seen rounded up a few years back...the Martian one.

//Definitely mutant.// Roy's face stayed blank, but he was a little disappointed to know it. Mutants and aliens alike had very specific guidelines to follow. If the mutants breached them, they gave up their right to most legal protections, and that meant this thief, when Roy brought him in, would probably disappear into the system.

Not bringing him was not an option. After Jade...Roy had to make this one and in record time. Otherwise he could kiss his job goodbye, and he was certain he couldn't bear the failure again. Not after his past mistakes with drugs. Even Dinah would cast him off completely if he screwed this up.

* * *

Roy had learned the skills of a detective rather haphazardly, first under his guardian's care, and then under Dinah, the man's girlfriend. Both were authorized agents of the League, the group designated to bring in dangerous mutants and aliens for reeducation. They knew several tricks for the hunt, and had imparted the training on how to pick up the pieces and make that jump ahead, to be in place when the mutant was confident he had his plans perfect.

After a good two weeks, Roy was positive he knew just where the thief was going to strike, based on past patterns and what was available as a target. He staked it out, three nights through both heat and rain, before his prey arrived. The same long coat, the same interestingly colored armor beneath it, and the wild hair held back with a face guard of some kind was not exactly typical thief garb, Roy thought to himself.

Roy settled the energy pistol on his thigh, and let his crossbow stay in hand. Its quarrels were tipped with sedatives, and very quick to take effect on most physiologies. He started to take his shot before the thief could even get inside, but hesitated just the one second too long as he saw a small explosion on the door's lock, just after the man touched it.

//So that's how he does it...no trace of chemicals or debris because it's his touch.// Roy added that to his mental list of warnings about this man, as he got himself down the the street level to follow the thief for a better shot. Roy avoided tripping the alarms inside, wondering how the thief had bypassed the one that should have noticed the lock malfunction.

The interrogators would figure that out, he promised himself as he moved with all the stealth he could muster.

"Bad idea, mon ami," came a smoke-rough voice, before there was a glow, about the size of a playing card ahead of Roy. The agent fired on instinct, wasting a crossbow bolt on the target...which exploded as the bolt touched it.

"Shit," Roy cursed, scrambling to the side as another one came his way. He was able to dodge the explosive missile, ducking and rolling behind a shelf. His hand slapped to his thigh, and he came up with the energy pistol, moving constantly.

The shelf gave way to open corridor again, and a volley of the tiny explosives flew his way, five by the flicker count Roy's brain barely noticed. Five shots took them out at a safe distance, as Roy let his eye and hand function at that instinctive level.

"Can you keep up wit' me, mon ami? Got plenty o' cards," the thief called.

"Got plenty of charge," Roy growled back at him, tracking the next volley. He needed to get ahead again, needed to be able to not shoot at the damn cards long enough to shoot at the wielder of them.

"You talk good. Too bad you not as good at shadows." The thief kept a calm, almost amused tone as he talked. "Saw you a week ago, and t'ree days 'fore that. Knew somet'ing was up."

"And you came anyway? You're either touched, or just stupid." Roy maneuvered suddenly, going back and over a low table before kicking it out at his opponent.

The man hit it with one card that glowed more brightly and the table went in two pieces around him. However, Roy had followed, and was in the man's space, kicking the deck out of the throwing hand. He probably should have just fired, as the thief took advantage of his choice to suddenly snap a collapsible bo staff from his long sleeve, using its release to knock Roy's gun from his hand.

"You as fast wit' your fists as wit' that zap gun?" the thief asked, red on black eyes glittering dangerously in the dark.

"Faster than you, punk," Roy said with a fierce determination to take this Cajun down the old fashioned way.

"Roy!" It was a strong woman's voice, and should not be here. It distracted the agent from his end of the fight, his eyes flicking to one side to try and see her.

"Di..." His moment of shock allowed the fist holding the collapsed bo to land solidly behind his ear, sending him straight into blackness.

* * *

Roy woke back up in his hotel, but not alone. The man he was supposed to be catching was sitting in a chair, dealing out a hand of Clock Solitaire with a deck of cards. This made the agent wary, but why would they be back in his hotel if the thief had taken him prisoner?

"Wake, ah see." The smoke-rough voice was still just...perfectly pitched to relax one set of nerves and jangle a different set all at once. "De Bird 'ad to fly back fast, save questions."

"I've got a few of those." That couldn't have been Dinah...and this mutant couldn't know her, and none of this was making a lick of sense.

"Sure you do. Not ev'ry day you get your world turned upside down. And now, dey got me talkin' to you, 'cause de Bird can't, and maybe if you t'ink it t'rough, you see ah can be your friend."

Roy regarded the strange man frankly in the single lamp's light, noting he had set the cards down. Roy was in one piece, his nose was bandaged, and his weapons were in easy reach. This situation did not make him less nervous; but he knew he wasn't in immediate danger.

"Roy Harper," he offered, to show he was willing to listen.

"Remy LeBeau. Dey call me Gambit." The black eyed mutant stood slowly and stretched, before walking over to look out the window. "De Bird said you could be an asset. But she 'as a soft 'eart. 'Specially for young men who get too deep in de wrong trouble."

"How in hell do you know Dinah? And don't think you know a damn thing about me!" Roy snapped, before he could rein in his temper.

Remy chuckled at him. "Ah know de Bird 'cause she 'elped me out when ah got in too deep." The Cajun tossed a glance back at his would-be captor. "Got caught. She fixed it."

//Caught...fixed it...Dinah...she's working against the League?// Roy could not fathom that. Dinah was the daughter of generations of cops, had dedicated herself to perfecting her martial arts so that she could join the Elite League, a position that regularly hunted down people just like this Remy LeBeau.

"Can't see why?" Remy's voice was soft, almost gentle in the way he spoke. "Not my tale to share, mon ami. She'll tell you, if we come to an agreement."

"What kind of agreement?" Roy asked, his head whirling, trying to fit the pieces together.

"You 'ave t' catch a t'ief, and ah've got one for you," Remy said. "A mutant, so your boss don't t'ink somet'ing is up. Guilty of two o' de robberies dey t'ink ah did...like ah'd be so sloppy," the Cajun groused, then shrugged. "In return, ah go my own way, and sometimes we do it again."

"Wait, wait, wait...you're going to give me a suspect, and I let you go? On your word? Who're you to decide who I take in?" Roy shook his head, and then had to flinch as the lanky man was suddenly right in front of him, eyes blazing.

"Mon ami, some o' de mutants and aliens, dey be bad. Real bad. But de government paintin' us all with de brush of non-human, non-citizens? Dat's de real evil. And should sound familiar to you, Dineh boy."

Roy's face flushed with anger...and then he realized the man had made two points. One, Remy knew Dinah enough to get information on himself. And two, it was absolutely, blood-chillingly true. Roy was working for the government to do to two classes of sentient beings the very same thing that had led to the near extinction of the native people of the lands.

He swallowed hard, and saw the blazing anger fade back into the gentleness again. "So you see, mon ami, it's not dat 'ard a choice t' make."

"I was set up...to get me in this position, wasn't I?" Roy asked, fearing the answer. If Dinah had willingly risked him like this....

"No. But de Bird...she love you too much to let you become somet'ing you'd one day hate, 'specially wit' her 'elping out de way she does."

Roy started to ask about that again, but Remy shook his head. "Don't know, you can't tell."

"Point." The redhead grinned at his new contact in a dangerous game of real world cloak and dagger. "Always be you?"

"Probably, mon ami. You know my face now." Remy quirked a smile at him.

"Damn good-looking one too," Roy said, shamelessly flirting now that he didn't have to worry about a jail cell on the other end of this for the man.

"You say dat a few more times, and maybe one day we see who's really fastest...in ways ot'er den fightin'." Red on black eyes sparked with mirth and more...answered by the green-gold orbs of the newly converted mutant sympathizer.


End file.
